


Calling All Available Celestial Beings

by Dreary_Giraffe



Series: B*A*D  O*M*E*N*S [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, MASH (TV)
Genre: 1950s, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Angels, Demons, Gen, Korean War, Surgeons, War, Winter Stop Stalking Me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2020-10-14 09:03:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20598197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreary_Giraffe/pseuds/Dreary_Giraffe
Summary: In 1950s Korea, the war is raging hard in the 4077th. A flu epidemic had knocked out a large chunk of the nursing staff, as well as other needed personel around the camp in the cold winter. They needed more hands PDQ, and a quick call sorted it all out- they were getting four new people; four people that aren't always as they seem.





	1. Calling All Available Celestial Beings Pt. 1

**Author's Note:**

> yo
> 
> uh hey my first work in the B*A*D O*M*E*N*S series, wow
> 
> for more updates on when I post a new episode, go to the series and follow the info page I made

_ “All senior staff and Father Mulcahy please report to Colonel Potter’s office, sirs!” _

Hawkeye dropped the frozen chunk of liver from his fork onto the tray in front of him.

“Thank God, an escape from the mess tent!” He said, dropping his fork with a clatter.

“What do you mean, the liver wasn’t as solid as yesterday. I only chipped one tooth, must be getting warmer,” B.J. replied, getting up with Hawkeye.

“Let’s see what Potter wants this time,”

When Hawkeye and B.J. busted into their CO’s office, everyone else was already seated, wrapped in winter coats, while Radar rummaged in the files nearby.

“There you are, Pierce, Hunnicutt, take a seat,” Colonel Potter said, gesturing to the two chairs left.

When the two sat, Colonel Potter stood up. 

“Alright, people, listen up! I’ve got some big news!” He said with ecstasy. “We all know about the flu epidemic going around, rendering a lot of us bed-ridden, but I got something that might help us- more hands!” 

“More people?” Father Mulcahy said, surprised. “Who?”

“Another surgeon, nurse, night guard, and a little surprise for you, Father, another priest!” He replied with a grin. “Ever since the push at the front, more boys are coming in, and we need all the help we can get,”

“Well, I sure hope the new surgeon isn’t, ah, sharing the same acquaintance as us?” Charles piped up from the corner, looking more annoyed than exited or even surprised.

“Sure they are, for all we know, they could be staying until the end,” 

Charles groaned.

“Well, I, for one, am excited to know who my next nurse will be,” Margaret said, looking very happy.

“Another person to bite on,” B.J. cracked at her, but she shot him down with a glare.

“Radar, go get Klinger, I want to tell him about the new night guard, he’ll be in charge of showing them around,” Colonel Potter said.

“I’ll go get Klinger and tell him how he’ll show around the new night guard, yes sir,” Radar said at the same time, rushing out the door before Potter had finished his statement.

“Good lad,” He said, even after Radar had left, and sat down.

“Now, they should be here around 1200 hours tomorrow, so I want everyone to come meet them,” The colonel said, making sure to pointedly look at Hawkeye and B.J. at the time.

“Dismissed,” He waved them off, picking up the paper in front of him to read.

  
  
  


_ “Incoming wounded, both shifts report to OR on the double! Sorry, sirs,” _

Hawkeye sighed, sitting up from his cot.

“We just got out of Post Op, and we’re supposed to go patch up more 12-year-olds?” 

“It’s almost noon, too- a warm welcome to the new folks coming in,” B.J. replied, getting up to follow Hawkeye.

“I think you mean cold,” He replied, pulling up his hood before braving the tormenting colds.

They ran up to the three ambulances that had just pulled up, ordering the men in order of importance.

“This one has a head wound, shrapnel to the head, could be a tear in the prefrontal cortex, as well as hypothermia signs in the feet and fingers, this one needs to go first, prep him. Litter!” Hawkeye went from patient to patient, taking note of all the different wounds and how almost all of the soldiers had hypothermia.

Somewhere around the middle of a collapsed lung, a jeep had pulled up. Hawkeye barely noticed at all, until a tall, pale man with dark red hair and.. sunglasses? had started to check the patient next to him.

He told the orderlies to get him into Pre-Op, and turned to him.

“So much for a warm welcome,” He said to the man as he checked under half-patched bandages around a chest.

The man ordered away the last body, and got up to face Hawkeye as they fast-walked towards Pre-Op.

“Crowley, ta,” He reached out a hand, and Hawkeye took it.

“Hawkeye,” He replied. “You British?”

“I suppose you could call me that,” He said, but Hawkeye didn’t really care that much where he was from, as long as he had skilled hands.

“Our CO didn’t tell us we’d be getting any British people,” He walked into Pre-Op, grabbing a surgery shirt, and tossing another to Crowley.

“I don’t know who else you’re expecting, but you’ve got me.” He replied, dressing into the surgeon’s gown as other doctors and nurses wandered in to scrub up.

Crowley said a quick hello to everyone that had came in, then put on a mask and stepped inside to the OR.

“Where’s the other three do you think?” Potter said as he put on a gown over his surgeon clothes.

“Hopefully coming soon, we need the nurse,” Margaret said, pulling up her hair.

Just then, in stumbled two new people- a stout priest wearing a collar already, and a nurse with circle glasses and a studious aura.

“Ah, hello, I’m the new priest, Father Fell,” The chaplain said upon entering with a wave to everyone. Father Mulcahy stepped up to him, greeting him.

“Hello, Father, I’m Father Mulcahy,” He said, then made a face of oddity.

“It’s odd to be calling someone else Father for once,” He said with a shy smile, which Father Fell returned.

“It’s odd that a MASH unit would need two priests, but here I am,” Father Fell returned, going up to scrub.

The new nurse hadn’t said anything through the whole thing, just going up to the sinks and scrubbing up.

“I never got your name,” Margaret said, coming up next to her, a smile obvious under her mask.

“Anathema,” She said curtly, and turned away to get ready.

“I’m Margaret Houlihan, the head nurse,” She replied, with a little venom, to make it obvious she was higher in rank than her, and  _ how dare she turn her back to her? _

Hawkeye blocked her off, coming to stand next to her.

“Hey, I’m Hawkeye, maybe we could get to know each other more in the supply tent after this?,” he said, trying to act slick.

It failed, as she turned away, and walked into the operating room, apparently faster than the people already in before she started.

“Wow, the silent treatment, that’s gotta burn,” B.J. said, pulling on a surgeon hat.

“At least when it burns I get some warmth,” He said, walking in behind B.J.

  
  
  


After eight grueling hours in the OR, Hawkeye finally stepped outside into the cold fresh air.

“I wonder what happened to that sentry person that was supposed to come in today while we were off, digging our hands into boys that are pretending to be targets?” Hawkeye wondered aloud to B.J. as they fast-walked through the cold wind as it bit into what was left showing of their skin under scarves and mufflers.

“Who cares, I want to go get a luke-warm cup of coffee for once,” B.J. said back, walking closer to the mess tent.

When they got dinner, they noticed Radar and Klinger sitting next to someone they hadn’t seen before- a tall guy that seemed nervous.

They sat down across from them, next to Radar.

“Hey, you the new sentry guy that came today?” Hawkeye said, picking at frozen peas that had supposedly been thawed.

“Uh, yeah, um- I’m Newt,” He said, looking up from the tapioca pudding.

“I’m Hawkeye, this is B.J., and together we create a force so powerful, not even Superman can stop us,”

“What’s.. Superman?” He said cautiously, afraid it might be something popular he had missed.

“Just some new comic book Radar managed to smuggle with him in his cradle on the way here,” He said, jamming his thumb to the corporal sitting to his left.

“Hey stop that!” He muttered through the pile of food he was somehow managing to choke down. Hawkeye just laughed, and slung his arm around the shorter teen’s shoulders.

“..Are you gonna eat that?” Radar pointed at his tray.

“No, I don’t feel like vomiting tonight- keep it,” He said, and pushed it towards him, which was shortly followed by B.J.’s tray.

“Neither do I- I’ll just keep the coffee.”

The new sentry looked awkward, like he was intruding on an inside joke he had no idea was.

“I’m sure Radar will lend them to you, if you want to read them,” He said, his voice not as booming and playful.

He smiled, with actual sincerity behind it.

“Sure,” He said, and went back to his food, but shortly after, Klinger shook his shoulder- “We gotta go, the shift starts soon and I gotta show you the ropes,” 

The two got up, pulling fur coats and jackets closer as they stepped outside. They conversed as they left, but Hawkeye couldn’t catch anything they said.

After the two left, another two came in- the new surgeon and the new priest. They were talking with each other, even after they had to order food from Igor.

They came and sat where Klinger and Newt had left, across from them, 

“Hey, you guys are the new guys, right?” Radar said, after they had sat down, the conversation between them dying.

“Ah, yes, uh..” The blonde said, trailing off in search of a name.

“Radar,” He said with a little grin.

“Well, Radar, I am Father Fell, and this is-”

“Crowley,” He cut off the priest, looking a little bitter.

“Ah, uh, yes,” Father Fell replied, looking a little awkward, before continuing, trying to break the awkward silence that followed.

“And you?” He gestured to Hawkeye and B.J.

“Hawkeye and B.J., at your service,” B.J. said, half-saluting with his left hand- the wrong one to salute with, mind you.

“What does the B.J. stand for?” Crowley said with a little snarl to his voice, like he wasn’t in a good mood.

“Anything you want it to,” B.J. replied, answering with the same answer he had whenever anyone asked the question he hears too much when he tells someone his name.

“Uh huh,” He said with a playless smirk before looking away annoyed.

“Uh oh, another Charles,” Hawkeye whispered into B.J.’s ear, but Radar giggled like he had heard it anyways- he probably did.

“So, what’s the deal with you two, are you an item?” Hawkeye jokes, vaguely gesturing to the two.

Crowley practically hissed at him, and Father Fell blubbered- they were both bloo- tomato red.

“They know each other- have for a while,” Radar said, and the two stopped, staring him down. He shifted, uncomfortable.

“How do you know that?” They both said at the same time- Crowley more gritted-through-teeth anger, and Father Fell more confusion.

“Uh… sometimes I can see things that happen before they, uh... happen,” He said, a little put-on-the-spot. “It’s how I got my nickname,” He added with a little grin, that deteriorated when it wasn’t returned, turning back to his pile of food.

“Well, that sure is interesting- how do you two know each other- seeing you’ve said nothing that inclines that Radar is wrong, why don’t you tell us?” Hawkeye said to them, a little poison dripping- Radar was close to him, and he already had it tough being the shortest person in camp. He didn’t need more bullies.

“W-uh, we… seem to have a tendency to bump into each other,” Father Fell said, and looked like he was about to start a long tangent.

“You see, we don’t really come from the same place, in fact it would probably be better if we didn’t see each other at all, but it kept happ-” 

Crowley shut him up with a shush and a vague hand gesture that Hawkeye meant  _ shut your yapper,  _ and Father Fell, reluctantly, piped down.

“Well, I-we should probably get going,” Crowley said, standing up and grabbing the Father’s arm, half-pulling him up, and leaving the mess tent squabbling.

“Well, they sure are an interesting bunch,” Hawkeye said, and Beej and Radar nodded in agreement as they stared at the odd couple as they obviously walked around camp.

“Oh, gee!” Radar suddenly cried, slapping a hand to his head. “I gotta give them the tour!” He started to get up, stacking the three now empty trays- Hawkeye was always amazed at how much he could eat- and went for the door.

“Radar, wait,” Beej grabbed his arm as he went by, making him stop.

“Let them figure it out- we’ll find ‘em in an hour or so and see if they’re making out in the officer’s club, wasted,”

Hawkeye and Radar stared at him for a moment, before a grin fixed into Hawkeye’s face.

“You’re the meanest person I know, and I love you for it,”


	2. Calling All Available Celestial Beings Pt. 2

_ _ _ “What the hell, Aziraphale?!”  _ Crowley hissed into the face of the angel, making a puff of cold white breath blow into his face, making him pull away in disgust.

“I wanted to help! Almighty knows they need it down here,” Aziraphale replied, as if obvious. Crowley felt like throwing a crowbar up into the sky of hopes it would hit The Almighty right in Her face.

“You shouldn’t be down here, you could get discorporated!” He said, trying very hard to restrain himself.

They were down an alley in between two tents- what two Crowley wasn’t sure. All he knew was that they were alone and that they needed to talk.

“Well, so could you, I have just the right to be here and help out as you do,” Aziraphale suddenly got an odd, almost humorous look on his face, “What are you doing here? I’m surprised an evil demon like you would want to help out saving lives as a surgeon. Also... how did you become a surgeon?”

“A MASH unit is full of pain and suffering, everyone knows that.”

“Are you getting a bit of a soft spot, then?” A smile hinted at the corners of the angel’s mouth.

_ “Shut it,”  _ Crowley hissed, leaning forward, sticking a finger onto his chest, but Aziraphale kept the half-grin almost smirk close to his face.

A distant chatter made the two pause and separate slightly as the three men from the mess tent walked down the carved road of pebbles. The short one (Crowley was never good with names) paused close to the alley, and the two practically froze, holding their breath. The other two seemed to stop with him, as if him stopping meant something. They commenced quick words, and all three of them ran off in different directions.

_ “CHOPPERS!”  _ One called, running off. Crowley and Aziraphale barely exchanged looks before running off towards the OR with other soldiers passing with them. The overhead announcer came on the overhead.

_ “Incoming wounded, shift two report to the OR!” _

Crowley paused, but Aziraphale kept running. He paused, and turned around.

“I’m shift one!” Crowley cried out to him. Aziraphale stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, before nodding and running to hop onto the nearest jeep.

Crowley watched jeep after jeep pull up to the helicopter pad, leaving him feeling alone. It wasn’t long, though, before other people of shift one came out to watch it all go down. Almost all the other surgeons had gone except one. A tall chap, taller than him, if just by a bit. The other priest, that he couldn’t remember the name of. Other orderlies and MPs and night guards.

_ Guess they don’t need us that bad, if they only need shift one.  _ Crowley turned away, pushing through the crowd of people. He pushed through the last few people, before one of the people who he shoved turned around and snapped at him. 

“Pardon me, sir, but it seems you’ve forgotten where your body has taken you.”

Crowley whirled around, stopping in his tracks. It was the other surgeon next to the other priest.  _ What do you know about my body? What, you think I’m afraid of getting this form hurt? I can just get a new one!  _ He felt his fists tighten and untighten, trying to decide whether or not to sock one in the bloke’s face.

“My bad, forgot that other, pudgier bodies can get in the way sometimes,” He said nonchalantly, starting to walk backwards away from the group of people crowded.  _ Not in front of the good father.  _ Crowley started to turn away and walk back to start unloading his luggage in his new tent, apparently called “The Swamp” (for good reason, he was about to find out).

He heard the people disperse behind him, off to do whatever it is they did when they had nothing to do. 

  
  


His other two roommates came back fairly shortly afterwards. The other surgeon was gone still,  _ off getting drunk at the Officer’s Club most likely.  _

“Short shift, huh?” He was reading a magazine he had found on the ground. It was full of pin-ups of women, and the occasional male, and although Crowley found it something feral and definitely something they had made, he was bored enough to read it.

“It was shift one for a reason. Only the two,” B.J. replied, taking off his surgical garb. He threw it in a pile in the middle of the floor, where Hawkeye’s had collected as well.

“If you ever come back from the OR too tired to take off your gown, just throw it in the middle of the floor; Radar will come sniffing around to pick it up eventually,” He added, and flopped onto his bed.

“That coffee did nothing to wake me up from the eight hours from before,” Hawkeye sighed, sitting on his bed. He looked over to Crowley’s corner of the room.

“Hey, what’s with the sunglasses? Is it even legal for you to wear them during surgery?” He questioned, leaning back onto his bed.

“Doesn’t matter if it is, I’m wearing them,” Crowley threw the magazine near where he had picked it up.

“Hey,” B.J. got up a little and grabbed the magazine he had thrown. “Let’s leave a little package for Charles.”

Crowley watched intently as Hawkeye got up with him and set to work. They shredded the pages up, and pushed the worst of the papers into an envelope. After realizing they were playing a prank on him, Crowley got up to help.

“Ahh, so you are a man of taste,” Hawkeye said with a mischievous grin, and handed him the envelope and a similar one, except it had an address and signature.

“His sister Honoria sends him letters he constantly looks forward to. Just forge her signature and handwriting,” They explained, and Crowley did it easily.  _ Finally something easy I can do. _

When Charles finally came back from wherever he went, he was ecstatic to see a letter from his dear sister sitting on his desk. “I didn’t know mail came today!” He exclaimed, and if just for a moment, regret twinged in Crowley’s deep-ridden heart. It was quickly overrun with humor when he opened the letter and looked at the insides.The three cracked up in the three separate corners of the room, like surround-sound cackling. The honking of a goose from him, the witch cackling of Hawkeye and the soft but booming laughs from B.J. filled the tent and many yards in the area around the tent.

After calming down and Charles storming out again, to who knows where times two, all three leaned back in their beds. Boring small talk was passed around-  _ How’s Erin? How’s the dad? How’s Father Fell?  _ (A certain someone’s pillow was thrown at a certain Eye of the Hawk’s face at the last one) before everyone was too exhausted to keep talking. The sky had gotten dark by then, the soft rays of sunlight extinguishing behind the earth. Finally, Charles came back, and the world was filled with silence...

Until around three in the morning. Crowley was woken up to the sound of the door creaking open slightly, and a small body in the dark going from the cot to cot, quickly but silently, waking up the doctors. “Wounded, sir, at the compound. Come quick.”

Groaning, Crowley got up.  _ This is what I get for assuming a war would be any fun. _


End file.
